A Zero's Ace
by Acerze
Summary: The threat of the Abyssal Fleet is very new to the world, so the various nations begin devising countermeasures. With the freshly started Ship Girl Program taking off, the Japanese also decided to try some possible alternative methods...leading to a rather strange arrival at their base.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: October 26, 1942**

The familiar sputtering sound of his Mitsubishi A6M Zero reassured PO-1 Ōmori Shigetaka once he ignited its engine. The young fighter pilot was always a bit nervous before a sortie, but as soon as he was surrounded by this familiar cockpit, all his anxiousness seemed to melt away. There was only one thing on his mind now, to protect his squadron from enemy fighters, and to intercept the enemy's bombers.

He was a proud member of the fighter attachment to the Imperial Japanese Navy's (IJN) standard carrier, nameship Shoukaku. The fleet's objective, under the command of Kondo Nobutake and Nagumo Chuichi, was to drive the Allied Fleet away from Guadalcanal to weaken the support of their ground forces fighting on the islands.

Unbeknownst to him, this major naval engagement, christened the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands, would end with the loss of over half of the experienced pilots in the IJN. They were replaced by hastily and poorly trained pilots. This would eventually lead to a total loss of air superiority to the Allies, and contribute to the fall of Imperial Japan in the Pacific.

The engine's sputtering turned to a low rumble as Ōmori raised the throttle and took off, followed by his squad of fighters. It was a large-scale mission, but every pilot under his command was confident in their success. Why wouldn't they be? Their flight leader was one of Japan's ace fliers, credited with over 9 kills. He himself didn't think he was anything special, especially when comparing himself to the renowned Tainan Air Group, but he was secretly glad that his reputation helped to boost morale.

Ōmori glanced back at the receding carrier, his home ever since the aircraft carrier Akagi was lost at Midway. Still resentful at the destruction of one of Japan's most prized and decorated carriers, he was determined not to let the same thing happen again. Not that he didn't make sure to bring down some American planes during that battle. So that they were fully prepared for any danger, he put everything he had into being an exemplary NCO for his squadron. In order to protect the Shoukaku from her enemies.

It was this thought process that prevailed as they spotted an Allied strike force consisting mainly of SBD-1 Dauntless dive bombers from the American aircraft carrier Hornet.

There was only one thing to do, intercept and destroy this strike force. And the squadron leader leads the charge. Ōmori smiled wickedly as he realized that they hadn't yet finished their climb to attack elevation. The height advantage the Japanese squadron had made him confident in their ability to shatter this strike force.

"Attack!" With that cry, his squad dove to attack the ascending dive bombers.

However, the Americans were using a defensive formation they hadn't seen before, and try as they might, Ōmori's squad couldn't break it. The defensive fire coming from the front and rear guns of every Dauntless were driving the Zeros back every time, while inflicting some damage.

By this point, Ōmori had been joined by another two Zeros from the light aircraft carrier, Zuihou, and they were determined to stop these tenacious bombers. The Zuihou and the Shoukaku were in close proximity to one another, and would both suffer if these bombers made it past the fighters.

Ōmori took a quick stock of his forces as he climbed back up to attack elevation. They had already lost one, maybe two Zeros to the well-aimed curtain of fire coming from the dive bombers. The others were diving in and out, trying to get a shot on the less maneuverable dive bombers. With a start, he realized that the strike force's escort, consisting of the dangerous F6F Hellcat fighters, had joined the battle. They had been following at an odd distance, and could not respond to the initial attack on their charges, but they were now engaging several Zeros in deadly dogfights. His radio buzzed with the shouts of his fellow pilots.

"These damn Americans! One's on my tail!"

"I got him! Ah- Aggghh!" A burning Zero caught Ōmori's eye as it plummeted below the clouds, towards the deep blue ocean below.

"We have to act now…" Ōmori grit his teeth and thought for a moment, then patted his instrument panel with a smile, "That's right, no hesitation, just act now!"

Ōmori finished his climb, targeted the lead Dauntless, and dove in a straight on attack. The Dauntless leader noticed him, and immediately brought his nose up to fire his frontal guns at the incoming Zero. To Ōmori's surprise (and horror), the Dauntless leader's aim was true. It was actually quite difficult to get accurate fire on a head on attack, especially with the angle advantage Ōmori held, so he was caught off guard.

"Shit!" The front of his Zero burst into flames. He had a fleeting thought about the irony of being brought down by a dive bomber, his prey, rather than one of the high tension duels he commonly fought with enemy fighters, but he shook it off. Since the beginning, their "prey's" defensive fire had always been deadly.

He knew immediately his plane was doomed, as the machine gun fire had chewed through the wings and body, to the point that his plane was quite literally disintegrating. Steeling himself, he pointed the remainder of his plane towards the Dauntless leader as best he could.

The flames grew hotter, and his vision began to darken from the force of his dive. Before he could even see if he succeeded in ramming his adversary, Ōmori blacked out.

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded was the reassuring sputtering of his Zero's dying engine...

* * *

 **Hello! This is my first submission to the site, a very short prologue for what is to come. Some of you might be wondering, but Shigetaka** **Ōmori is indeed a real fighter ace! He was also killed in action at the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands. According to the sources I've read, he did die fighting several Dauntless dive bombers, but he's very scarcely mentioned, so I took a little liberty for this short excerpt.**

 **I hope you enjoyed it, and please keep some tabs on the story. The prologue was short, but chapters will be reasonably long. Thank you!**


	2. An Unexpected Result

**Chapter 1: An Unexpected Result**

"Admiral, we've received another missive from the Americans. They're willing to cooperate with us on any joint operations we want to conduct in the Pacific, but they do want more details on the Ship Girl Program."

"I'm sure they do. We've been getting communications from every country that had anything resembling a navy back in World War II, and even some that didn't." Admiral Kiyotaka Hideaki replied to his aide then sighed, "I wish we had more substantial information to give them, but we've just succeeded, at least, I hope it's a success, for the first time one week ago. And we don't even know if that was a fluke or not."

Kiyotaka sighed again. He actually didn't doubt the project's success, but he was worried for the recent arrival at his base. She could easily have been his grandchild in appearance. What they were planning...didn't quite sit well with him.

"Also, Chief Isamu has been asking for you again. He said he would come himself but he is on the verge of another breakthrough." his aide, Lieutenant Suzuki Manobu, added.

"That man...does he have any manners whatsoever? He's lucky I'm his commanding officer. I suppose I should go see him, before he blows up our entire research division." Kiyotaka stood up and stretched. Giving a nod to Suzuki, they departed his plain, but functional office.

"I don't believe he was in charge of armament research, sir." Suzuki commented hesitantly as they walked.

"It was a joke, a joke." Kiyotaka replied. Suzuki gave a small smile in response. They'd both been pretty stressed recently.

Suzuki was in his early thirties, and was a healthy, model Japanese officer. He had a more aggressive face than Kiyotaka, and took his duties seriously. Though he's been known to be quite the family man outside of the naval office.

Kiyotaka himself wasn't a bad-looking man, in a well-aged way. His eyes were serious, but his face showed wrinkles that told of much hearty laughter. He was by all definitions, an older Japanese gentleman. He was a bit more haggard recently, but every action he took was filled with conviction.

Admiral Kiyotaka carried the position of Chief of Staff of the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF), essentially making him the supreme commander of Japan's Navy. He was currently based in Yokosuka. It was an important job before, but once the war began, his status rose considerably. But with that status, came a slew of responsibilities and decisions he wouldn't force on even his worst enemy.

Japan, along with the rest of the world, was assaulted about a year ago by a force of monsters, for the lack of a better word, and found that even with their modern technology they could not fight back without astronomical cost. These creatures have been termed: abyssals. The size of an individual enemy was small, varying from human to animal, but the firepower and defense was anything but.

Kiyotaka grimaced, remembering the videos of the initial attacks. It had been a massacre. Missiles were fast, beyond fast, but they were made to hit targets bigger than the Abyssals. The destruction of half of the JMSDF's fleet was a testament to how outclassed they were. No one knew exactly how it happened, but after many costly engagements, naval intelligence was able to draw up a preliminary report.

These were ships, warships of the WWII era, that were condensed into small "living" beings. The variations in Abyssal mobility, weaponry, and formation all correlated with historical WWII naval tactics, but with much more lethality and precision. Not to mention that except for the smallest ones, they could shrug off several warheads before succumbing to their injuries. And that was after using their superior mobility to dodge most of them.

Combining this discovery with the full might of the modern world's industrial power, every country that could immediately began devising countermeasures. But no one had succeeded yet in making a definitive counter to the Abyssal Fleet.

Defensive tactics and structures devised by the French and English were instrumental in saving lives, while American ingenuity with weaponry and electronics allowed several refitted models of missile cells to predict Abyssal movements and limit their mobility. Each country made their contributions, but humanity was still landlocked, with only the most heavily armed air groups being used to maintain lines of communication and supplies. There was nothing so far that could give them a winning edge over their opponents.

The Germans and Japanese however, were determined to reverse engineer their adversaries. Using recovered material from whatever parts of the abyssals they could find, the countries collaborated and laid the groundwork for what would eventually become known as the Ship Girl Project. The researchers found that indeed, the abyssals were alive, and that somehow the organic components of their bodies had been melded with metal alloy, generating a strange tissue that makes them extremely durable. This, combined with the strong inorganic plating that many of them wore, was what made their endurance truly rival that of their WWII predecessors.

In a more private facility, research was conducted on the only two living abyssals ever captured alive. One seemed to be a destroyer, and was animal-like. In terms of communication, none was achieved. The other, a human-like female cruiser, responded with extreme hostility. The recordings of the attempted communication were haunting, the cruiser's voice hollow and inhuman with a feminine edge..

"Sink...Sink...die...die...DIE! SINK DEEP INTO THE DEPTHS! Join...us...join...us..." Kiyotaka shuddered involuntarily at his memory of that particular recording.

After gleaning all they could from those studies, the researchers put forward a plan that bordered insanity. Apparently, they decided, that some kind of other force was at work, bringing to life husks of ships as personified hatred. Using the strange "signals" and "imprints" they were able to detect from the abyssals, they wanted to attempt to use a more positive feeling to bring the ships back to life, hopefully non-hostile ones. They were supposed to take a human form, like the humanoid abyssals, and essentially be military personnel. No one had said the word "magic", or the word "supernatural", but Kiyotaka was sure everyone present at the time had been thinking it.

Kiyotaka had considered replacing his entire R&D division, and telling off the few German researchers that supported them, but with the idea of replicating the Abyssal weaponry and armor being far from achievable, he decided to let them do as they wished. So long as there was always someone working on the former. To him, the idea of making their own "manned abyssals" was immediately appealing, but he wouldn't mind having some "good abyssals" fighting on their side.

At least, until they succeeded. Sparing the horribly complex details, they had managed to create a facility that when activated, consumed X amount of 4 major materials: fuel, ammunition, steel, and bauxite, in order to create something. The first few attempts were met with failure and waste of resources, but then they succeeded. In the enclosed "dock" of the construction facility, stood an individual girl. The researchers, Kiyotaka, and the other high-ranking officers stood with their mouths agape.

"Sh-She's just a kid!" Someone shouted at the time.

"I'm Hibiki. Second of the Akatsuki-class Destroyers. I'm responding to my summons here." She spoke with a soft voice, childlike, but composed. She appeared to be a young teenage girl, with snow-white hair, wearing a sailor uniform. But it was her accessories that drew the eyes. She had what resembled a smokestack on her back, with a turret mounted on her shoulder and a torpedo launcher under each arm.

She had looked at each of them curiously and expectantly, picking out Kiyotaka as the leader, and said "I await your orders, Commander."

In short, they had managed to summon a friendly equivalent of the Abyssal beast-like destroyers. They immediately contacted their German cooperators, who had been mainly focusing on replicating Abyssal technology, and informed them of their impossible success. Among the researchers theories began sprouting up, and more testing was proposed, but Kiyotaka ordered a waiting period in order to assess their base's new arrival.

It didn't help that the amount of material that had been consumed by the facility to construct Hibiki was no small cost, and the researchers suspected that if they wanted more powerful ships, the cost would have to go up. Kiyotaka had grown quite pale at the preliminary testing proposals.

This was a week ago, and now Kiyotaka was on his way to entertain one of the chief researchers in charge of the Ship Girl Project.

"How's Hibiki doing? Has she settled in well?" Kiyotaka asked Suzuki.

"Yes, sir. She's currently involved in demonstrations of her abilities, but outside of those she's acclimated well. But even though it's only been a few days, I believe she may be a bit lonely around so many adults." Suzuki added, looking rather sympathetic. Kiyotaka remembered that Suzuki had a daughter in middle school, and most likely viewed the destroyer in a similar light, so he issued a warning.

"She's still a personified ship, one much older than me or you." Kiyotaka blinked at the absurdity of the words that just came out of his mouth, but continued "I don't doubt she may desire some comrades, but never forget the hostility she showed when we explained the threat of the Abyssals to her. She's a soldier, through and through."

"Understood, sir." Suzuki replied, looking not-quite-so convinced. Truthfully, Kiyotaka wasn't even convinced of his own words. If the world had come to a point where they had to send young girls, regardless of their origin or true identities, out to fight, then much more was lost than their naval superiority.

"That aside, I believe it's about time we begin testing that new construction facility again, the Factory, as we've named it?"

"That's right." Suzuki nodded.

"Yes, well, tell the R&D Department that they are authorized to continue testing the Factory. I'm interested in the equipment module they've been implementing. If we can get even better weapons for the already powerful Ship Girls, then we should. The other chiefs will be happy to hear it, probably."

"I agree."

"Ah, but any Ship Girl construction attempts must be overseen by myself or someone I send."

"Understood."

By this time, they were now outside of Chief Isamu's office, located next to the Factory. Suzuki knocked raptly, and opened the door for Kiyotaka once they got the okay.

"Admiral! I'm so sorry to make you come out all this way. But excellent timing, I just finished adjusting this module for the Factory!"

Isamu energetically welcomed the men in. His workshop was actually rather organized, but still busy. Tools were spread out over various tables, and they saw more than one computer being used at once.

Chief Isamu himself was a small, thin man, but not unfit. He wore thick work clothes befitting a mechanic, but kept a jacket on with his rank of specialist prominently displayed.

"Chief Isamu, it's good to see you so energetic." Kiyotaka gave a curt node in response. "What did you wish to bring to my attention?"

"Ah, as you know, I'm the computer equivalent to the programmer for the factory. But once the equipment module was completed, I found myself with nothing to do. The others will properly test my construction module and equipment module to find out all of the possibilities without my help, so I devoted my time to something else."

"And that is...this new module you speak of?"

"Correct! See, I thought to myself, if we could summon the souls of inanimate objects like warships to come back, would it not be possible, if not easier, to summon the souls of the deceased?"

Kiyotaka felt his eyes widen and jaw slacken in surprise, while Suzuki just blinked a few times in consternation.

"What kind of heresy are you spouting Isamu?" Suzuki asked forcefully, "To even suggest disturbing our ancestor's rest-" Kiyotaka raised his hand to stop Suzuki.

"Isamu, what you're saying isn't so far-fetched considering what we've achieved...But let me ask you this: Why? You're talking about something that's akin to reviving the dead." Kiyotaka folded his arms and gazed at the wiry researcher pointedly. Isamu gulped when he realized the implications of what he was suggesting, adjusting his spectacles.

"Ahem...My thought process was that while we have access to all kinds of records concerning World War II, it would be even more effective to hear about the tactics and logic behind that era's strategy from someone who experienced it themselves."

"I see." Kiyotaka motioned for him to continue.

"Yes, I thought that maybe, no, surely they would be able to help our country once again in its time of need. And be willing to as well."

Kiyotaka had to admit, the idea of meeting a famed leader such as Yamamoto Isoroku or Chuichi Nagumo was quite appealing. They would be good advisers with live commentary rather than the dry pages of a history book.

"And you're sure that this Factory could fetch them specifically? We won't end up with someone else? From a different time period?"

"The Factory's retrieval system, as we call it, is based off the 'signals' that we read from the inorganic and organic material we retrieved from the abyssals. We determined that we would 'summon' the souls of those from that era, so it should work. Also, it seems having objects with great significance or attachment work as a catalyst for the retrieval."

"Sounds like magic…" Suzuki muttered, "Something like an anime series…"

"Lieutenant?" Kiyotaka tilted his head at his brooding aide.

"Ah, it's nothing sir. My apologies." Suzuki straightened up and shook his head. "I'm rather against this idea, myself."

Isamu cleared his throat at Suzuki's comment, wishing to continue.

"I went ahead and had these made yesterday. It's the flags of all the major commanders from World War II. Yamamoto, Nagumo, Kondo, you name it. I'm hoping if we keep these in the catalyst area, we can summon one of them." Isamu motioned to some piles of cloth that were lying in the back of his workshop. Kiyotaka strode over to take a look.

"These are well-made," he mused, "I've already authorized resumption of Factory operations, and I suppose I should reward you for your efforts in getting the Factory running...Chief Isamu, you have my permission to perform a test with this new module. But I will be there overseeing it."

Suzuki stared at the Admiral in disbelief. Kiyotaka understood the younger man's feelings, but honestly, anything and everything that could be done against the monsters that are the Abyssals should, and would, be done.

"You have my thanks, Admiral Kiyotaka!" Isamu gave a salute, "Then, how about we go immediately?"

"I'm sorry?" Kiyotaka looked at him in surprise, "What's the rush?"

"I don't want to get in the way of the already working modules, so if normal operations are starting up again soon, we should test it now."

"Hmm. I suppose that's fine. The other commanders don't need to be here for a minor experiment."

"Minor…? We're bringing the dead back..." Suzuki muttered to himself while shaking his head.

"Well, I'm the Chief of Staff, so I will handle any possible repercussion for this project." Kiyotaka stated, assuming full responsibility. He admitted it was a bit hasty, but Isamu was right about not disrupting the Factory's operations once they officially resumed. Not to mention he was extremely curious to see if this would work.

Still looking a bit disgruntled, Suzuki followed the two of them out to the factory. The building wasn't especially large, and consisted of a covered dock and garage, with some back rooms where Kiyotaka supposed all the machinery and tech were at work. Isamu disappeared into one of those back rooms while the two officers stood at the edge of the water.

There was a whir, and the whole building seemed to shake. It was a sign that the Factory had been powered up, one that Kiyotaka was familiar with from Hibiki's construction. Suzuki looked around curiously, most likely pondering the structural integrity of the building, but his expression remained calm.

"That should do it. Since we're trying to summon a person, I didn't input anywhere near as much material as we used for the destroyer girl." Isamu came out, brushing his hands on his pants.

"I see." Kiyotaka muttered in response, his mind filled with thoughts about historical war heroes.

"Yes, despite what you might think, I believe we've refined the algorithms to use our materials quite efficiently." Isamu replied proudly, "If this works, it'll be much more cost efficient than constructing Ship Girls. Though the purposes are completely different."

"Wait, did you say materials?" Kiyotaka had a sudden realization, "Are you saying we're summoning human beings with things like fuel and steel?"

Suzuki gasped as the realization hit him too. Kiyotaka turned to Isamu with a face full of anger. The researcher looked at them with surprise, and a bit of fear.

"W-Well, yes, the Factory can only be powered by those materials…" Isamu stammered out.

"And let me get this straight, Chief Isamu," Kiyotaka said deliberately, "If I remember correctly, these materials are meshed and melted together to create the bodies of those that we construct, correct?"

"Yes...though any excess material is lost as a result…" Isamu swallowed, seeing where this was going.

"Did it perhaps escape your mind that humans enjoy being in their own bodies? Not. Artificial. Ones?"

"My apologies! I knew about the result, but didn't think about it..." Isamu looked on with horror as he realized his mistake. They weren't summoning some inanimate ships, this was a human person who had once lived in this world. Hibiki didn't seem fazed about her new body but...how would a person react?

The Factory suddenly stopped shaking, and a bright light blinded them all. It was similar to the time Hibiki arrived. Once the light cleared, there was no sign of anything in the water.

"Did it...fail?" Suzuki looked around, a hopeful tone in his voice.

"No, look there!" Isamu pointed at the edge of the dock. Near the water, a person was lying face down, unconscious.

The three men ran over and looked at the arrival. It was a young man, covered with water, wearing a flight jacket. He had a pilot's cap and goggles as well. Luckily he was breathing, but only faintly.

"Get this man to the infirmary immediately, Suzuki. I'll help. Isamu, go grab the other R&D Chiefs and get them ready to examine the arrival after the doctor finishes."

"Understood!" they both snapped to action. Isamu ran out of the Factory as fast as his legs could while Kiyotaka and Suzuki set about picking the unconscious pilot up.

"Urgh, he's a bit heavy isn't he?" Suzuki grunted as they hefted his arms around their shoulders.

"If he's made up of the same strange bio-metal material Hibiki is, then it would only make sense." Kiyotaka took a moment to look at the man's face, "He's young...and definitely not one of the famous historical naval commanders."

"No," Suzuki agreed, "I think everyone in the navy would be able to recognize one of them thanks to their photos plastered on the walls of every other building. It seems he's a pilot."

Kiyotaka only nodded in response.

After the two of them made sure the doctor understood the situation, Kiyotaka ordered Suzuki to remain and report anything that happened. He then returned to his office to brood over the situation. Chief Isamu made his appearance shortly after.

"Isamu? Have you found anything out?"

"Um, no sir. They're getting ready to examine him now. I just wanted to let you know that the machinery in the Factory was damaged by that construction attempt. It seems the new module wasn't very compatible with its parameters. It'll take some time to figure out some workarounds and...if I had to give my opinion, I would prefer we devote our resources to our already working equipment and construction modules." Isamu said with a gloomy expression.

"Hm...is the Factory going to be alright?"

"Yes, the damage can be repaired within a day."

"Good." Kiyotaka gazed at the crestfallen man, "I was excited about the prospect of having great commanders work with us, too. I should've realized that those ideas were beyond our current capacity, and could lead to unintended consequences. The fault does not lie with you alone, Isamu."

"...Thank you, sir." Isamu bowed his head and left the office. Now alone, Kiyotaka sighed and rubbed his temples lightly.

"Now...what, or who, exactly is our newer arrival?" Kiyotaka pondered aloud.

It turned out he wouldn't have to wait long.

The next day, he received a report from Isamu. It seemed that the quick initial evaluation had yielded some expected results, so they were able to put together a report in a short amount of time. The Factory was back up and running, thanks to the overnight maintenance crews, and the researchers were eager to begin testing again in the afternoon. Letting them have their fun, Kiyotaka called for Suzuki, who was still waiting faithfully at the infirmary, so that they could discuss the findings.

"One of the researchers went to the library with a photo of the pilot. He's been identified as Ōmori Shigetaka, a fighter ace from World War II." Suzuki informed him.

"Ah, so his identity isn't a mystery then. That's good." Kiyotaka pointed to the report lying on his desk, "Apparently he's built in a similar way to Hibiki. Except the metal infused with his body is bauxite."

"Like a plane, then?" Suzuki frowned, "He's probably more frail than that little girl then."

"It makes sense, if he's a pilot." Kiyotaka replied. At this point, it wasn't worth mentioning that nothing made sense, beginning with what the Factory could achieve in the first place.

"I suppose so..."

"Yes, well, there's actually a more pressing issue." Kiyotaka raised a hand to his forehead, the elbow resting on his desk.

"What is it?" Suzuki leaned forward expectantly.

"He's in a coma. Or a coma-like state, if you prefer. And we don't know when he's going to wake up, either."

The two men sat in silence for a moment, then let out a collective sigh.

* * *

It felt like he was floating. Alone, in the dark, when suddenly something grabbed him and forcefully pulled him downwards.

He awoke with a start, sweating profusely. It was an unfamiliar room, but it was definitely medical in purpose. He raised his hand, the movement feeling sluggish and heavy, and shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window. Before he could move again, a nurse walked in, starting with surprise at the upright patient.

She immediately hit a button on the wall and said, "Get the doctor now, and send word to Admiral Kiyotaka. Maybe someone from R&D too. The patient is awake."

She then turned to the confused patient, smiling reassuringly. "It's good to see you're awake!"

"Th-Thank you..." he returned the smile, "But...where am I? What is this?"

The room was full of machinery he didn't recognize. This was a hospital more advanced than anything he should've access to, considering where he was before he had lost consciousness. The nurse suddenly gave him a more serious look.

"I'm sorry to ask you a strange question like this but...do you know who you are?"

"Of course. I'm Ōmori Shigetaka." he replied confidently.

Unfortunately for him, he would soon be facing a reality rife with events that would make him feel much, much less confident.

* * *

 **Woohoo! Here's the meat of the beginning of the story! The prologue was mainly just to show off our new protagonist's final moments in life. Here is where the story actually begins. I hope it was interesting to you, and please, leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	3. What One Can Do

**Wah! I received a review! Thank you so much!**

 **ijnfleetadmiral: I'm glad you enjoyed my first chapter! I've actually been thinking about whether I was going to bring in more historical figures or not, which would play into the overall direction the story is going to go. I still haven't decided, but Tameichi Hara is definitely on my list if I decide to go through with it. The man is a legend!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: What One Can Do**

Ōmori Shigetaka was not having a great time. In fact, he wished he was still unconscious.

After identifying himself to the nurse, a doctor had come in to the room.

"Hello, is everything alright?" Ōmori greeted the doctor, but the man simply made a strange expression and stood in the corner. If that wasn't unnerving enough, shortly afterwards an older man came in bearing the rank of Admiral! It wasn't someone he recognized either, so the situation must have changed drastically while he was unconscious. The Admiral scrutinized him carefully for a few moments, before sighing and introducing himself.

"I'm Admiral Kiyotaka Hideaki. Current Chief of Staff of the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force. The new name for what you once knew as the Imperial Japanese Navy." Kiyotaka began. From his body language, Ōmori knew this was going to be a long briefing. But why was someone so high rank the one briefing him? It only served to make him more confused, along with the words he was now hearing. His stomach dropped at the man's words, making him feel a little sick.

"To begin with, it is now the year 2XXX. The war you fought in is now long over." Kiyotaka hesitated for a moment, but then looked Ōmori in the eyes seriously, "We lost. The Japanese Empire was defeated and destroyed. We are just the simple country of Japan once more."

If Ōmori had been standing, he would've staggered back in shock. Surprisingly, most of the shock came from the date that the Admiral had said. He was still sorely disappointed that they'd been defeated, but...even though none of them said it, he could tell how serious the situation had been by looking his superior officers' faces right from the beginning of the war. He knew it was to be an uphill struggle, but somewhere inside of him, he thought they would still be successful. The pit in his stomach dropped even further.

"Then...I'm...how am I still alive? Not only would I be so old...but...I was shot down." Ōmori said glumly, looking over his still-youthful body. Remembering the moments before he lost consciousness, he was filled with a sense of shame at failing to shoot down even one attacker during that engagement.

"That brings me to my next point." Kiyotaka continued, "You really did die in that battle you're remembering. The report reads 'Ensign Ōmori, shot down engaging an enemy strike force while flying from the aircraft carrier, Shoukaku.'"

"Ensign? I was no commissioned officer, sir." Ōmori shook his head vigorously, as he had never even been to a military academy before. His mistaken rank came as more of a surprise than being informed of his death; it seemed he would filter out the unbelievable things until the believable things were heard and processed. Kiyotaka suddenly smiled at him warmly.

"You were promoted posthumously, Ōmori," he said, still smiling, "Everyone who made it out of that engagement that saw your final moments recommended you. You went up two whole ranks and received a commission."

"No...I didn't do anything to deserve that..." Ōmori sat there in disbelief, as being promoted in such a way was very rare at the time, and he was sure it was still the same way. The Admiral just shook his head, and gave him a look of approval.

"Your bravery won the hearts of many of your fellow pilots. Even as your plane was being destroyed, you still moved forward and brought down your target by collision. That says something about your character, Ensign." Kiyotaka informed him. Ōmori brightened a little bit at the news, glad that he had successfully rammed the Dauntless in his final moments.

Kiyotaka felt a sense of relief at the pilot's improving mood. He knew that this briefing still had many more surprises for the young man, and he didn't want to overwhelm him too badly. Sadly, he recalled another tidbit of information he received while researching the young man. He had been promoted for his bravery, and because the other pilots believed he had successfully rammed the lead Dauntless, succeeding even as he faced death. However, an account after the war from the Dauntless pilot himself revealed that he had successfully dodged under the burning wreckage of Ōmori's Zero. But the young pilot didn't need to know that now. Ōmori's next words snapped him out of his reverie.

"So...how am I here now?" Ōmori asked, remembering that he had just been informed of his death.

"Well..." Kiyotaka took a deep breath.

The words that followed left Ōmori speechless, and his mind reeling. He was apparently here as a part of some strange military research that was constructing (summoning?) spirits of the dead. And worse yet, he was told he was no longer quite human.

"No, not spirits of the dead. You were actually...a bit of a special case." Kiyotaka went on to give Ōmori a very simple explanation of the Ship Girl Project. It left Ōmori with more questions than before, but he decided to let it be. There was no use asking technical questions when he wouldn't understand the answers. In short, the spirits of ships, imbued with the emotions of all the men and commanders that once served upon them, were being brought back by the modern navy. The whole thing screamed of supernatural powers or sorcery.

"You were actually constructed pretty early in the program. You've just been unconscious for...*ahem*" Kiyotaka cleared his throat, "Three months now."

"Three months!?" Ōmori gasped.

"Why are you so surprised? From your perspective, you've been asleep for 70 or so years, plus three months," Kiyotaka reminded him, looking slightly amused.

"I-! Well, if you put it that way..." Ōmori could only nod in response.

He took a moment to process what he was being told. Indeed, he felt a bit more sluggish, like his movements lagged a split moment behind his brain. He also felt an uncharacteristic resilience when he touched his skin, like it wasn't quite as soft or weak as before. His body also felt heavier overall, which contributed to the sluggish feeling. They'd been talking for a while now, so it was beyond simple wake-up lag. Ōmori determined that he truly wasn't quite the same as before, but for some reason, the knowledge didn't bother him that much.

But then another question found him, burning in his mind. "Why sir? What is going on that you would have to resort to such extreme and uncanny research?"

Kiyotaka's face darkened, his face set in the most serious expression Ōmori had seen from the Admiral. He swallowed nervously as Kiyotaka began to speak.

"We're under attack." Kiyotaka started the next part of the briefing with that simple statement. The summary of the abyssal threat, followed by a rundown of the events that have occurred since they arrived, caused an turbulent emotion to well up inside of Ōmori's chest.

He was a pilot. A simple man who followed orders. He was also an ace. That meant he's killed many of his enemies, and he did it without hesitation. But that did not mean he was heartless, nor was he violent. He was a soldier who fought for his country, the same way his opponents did. He bore no enmity to the individual American, just their country that was fighting his own. They were doing their jobs, plain and simple.

But this was different. These abyssals, as they were called. They were monsters, with no cause. They were fighting, destroying, and murdering with no rhyme or reason. They weren't fellow men doing their jobs, they were rabid beasts. And beasts needed to be put down.

"..." Kiyotaka noticed the subtle change in the young man's countenance. It was always unsettling to see someone so young making that kind of expression. With an imperceptible start, he realized it was the facial expression he'd seen on Hibiki, and the Ship Girls that followed after her. He decided to speak up.

"How old are you, Ōmori?"

"Me? I should be...25 at the time of my...death, I suppose." Ōmori snapped back to the situation, answering honestly.

"Any lovers? Perhaps a family?"

"No sir, I didn't really think about it at the time."

"Are you trained in any kind of trade? What did you do before the war?"

"Nothing, really. I went to school..." Ōmori was beginning to see the direction that Kiyotaka was attempting to take.

"I see, I see. Well, despite your rather unique condition, you're still a citizen, and as such-" Kiyotaka stopped, as Ōmori made a face that wanted to say something, "What is it?"

"Sir, the army I once served may no longer be around but...I'm a fighting man. I don't want to go back to being a citizen while our country remains in danger. Please, enlist me in this new navy...the JMSDF, you called it? I want to continue serving our country."

Kiyotaka looked at him for what seemed to be a long time, and then sighed, "I want to clarify, Ōmori, that you are not built the same way the Ship Girls are. You're lighter than most of them, and the metal infused with your body is bauxite, patterned in a way similar to the Zero's you once flew. You are, without a doubt, very weak compared to even the most low-powered Ship Girls."

"I understand that, sir." Ōmori knew full well the armor of a Zero was weak even by a plane's standards, so it couldn't even hold a candle to a destroyer's armor.

Kiyotaka stared at him again, measuring the resolute pilot up. He shook his head, and began speaking again.

"Well, since you've just awoken, we don't know to what extent the Factory granted you power. Besides your stronger-than-human body, we don't know what you're capable of, so we'll have to have you do some tests and demonstrations. We don't even know if you have any battle gear." Kiyotaka explained.

"Yes, sir." Ōmori simply nodded. He had been informed that despite looking human, the Ship Girls carried impossibly powerful equipment that correlated with the ship they personified. They were also able to summon it at will, something that Ōmori didn't even try to comprehend.

"Oh," Kiyotaka suddenly grinned, "And I think i'll be having you keep that commission. And I'm bumping you up to Lieutenant, since you're a special case that will be reporting directly to me."

Ōmori's eyes widened in response, and then he smiled as well, "Thank you very much sir!

* * *

Despite what he said, Kiyotaka was still a very busy man, so Ōmori was officially put under the command of Kiyotaka's former aide, Commander Suzuki Manobu.

"He was a good aide, but I always knew he had a better head for field command. He's been instrumental in clearing the waters around Yokosuka. He's kind of like the Ship Girl's father." Kiyotaka had said, before leaving Ōmori to his thoughts. They were still running some checks on him, and every once in awhile a researcher with some strange device would come in and examine him.

Once the checkups were done, he was given free reign of the hospital facility, but wouldn't be discharged and cleared for service until the next day. He wandered for a bit, studied history on a wonderful new device called a computer for several hours, and then found his way to the roof. Looking over the base and the ocean, it was a beautiful view.

It was at this point that reality truly began to set in. He was torn away from everything he once knew, and the war he had fought and died for was in the past. He wondered if his fellow pilots had survived, and what they had done since the war. It seemed those that made it remembered their old flight leader fondly. He still wasn't sure what to make of his promotion after his death. He certainly felt like he didn't deserve it. Suddenly, a familiar sound boomed from the direction of the water.

 _12.7 cm guns! And... 20.3's as well!?_

Squinting, Ōmori could make out several figures darting about unnaturally on the water's surface. His eyes seemed to be working just fine, to his relief. A pilot with bad eyesight was worse than a blind one. After all, blind ones probably didn't shoot down their allies due to mistaken identifications. Also to his relief, the darting figures didn't seem to be fighting each other, and were destroying several targets set up around the bay.

"That's them." a man's voice spoke up from behind him. Ōmori turned to see a commander in uniform standing behind him.

"I would've gone with Admiral Kiyotaka to greet you, since I was one of the few that were there when you arrived, but I was busy with some administrative matters. The hospital staff told me you were on the roof," the commander held up his hand in greeting, "I'm your new commanding officer, Commander Suzuki Manobu."

"Petty Offi- I mean, Lieutenant Ōmori Shigetaka, reporting!" Ōmori saluted him crisply.

"At ease. You'll find that I run things in a rather...unorthodox manner. You don't have to worry about courtesy too much, as most of the individuals under my command obviously don't." Suzuki smiled wryly for a moment, then suddenly glared at Ōmori with a serious expression, "I want you to be honest with me. How do you feel being brought back?"

"..." Ōmori blinked, not quite understanding the question.

"I won't ask what it's like to be dead, or anything like that. But to be brought into an unfamiliar world, with new rules, new enemies, and everything you once knew long in the past, are you okay with that?"

"I..." Ōmori paused for a second, "Regardless of how or what caused me to end up here, I'm glad I can fight again for my country, even if it's not quite the same. This is still Japan, and I'm still Japanese. It's home, and that's what matters."

"...Alright then." Suzuki nodded in approval, "To be honest, I was against the experiment that brought you here. I was worried about the person being summoned. But you're the first, and may be the last. I don't know if Chief Isamu or Admiral Kiyotaka want to try again one day...but if you have nothing to say regarding the experiment, then I won't speak of it anymore. I'm glad to have you on the team."

"Thank you, sir." Ōmori recognized Kiyotaka's name, obviously, but he hadn't a clue who this "Isamu" was.

"Oh, Isamu was the researcher than designed the experiment," Suzuki noticed his confusion, "He was the only other one present at your summoning besides myself and Admiral Kiyotaka. He was very energetic about the construction, but when he realized what it would do to your bodies, he became pretty crestfallen. He'll be happy to hear you're not angry."

"I see..." Ōmori paused, wondering if he should voice his thoughts, "If I had to give my opinion, I must apologize that I wasn't a more useful individual. Surely someone like Admiral Nagumo or Commander-in-Chief Yamamoto would've been a greater asset. And if you took the time to explain, I'm confident none of those men would shirk from defending their homeland once again. Regardless of our bodies."

Ōmori bowed his head. He was, after all, just a random pilot. He just couldn't see himself being a major enough asset to fight against the abyssals.

"Hmm. I'll have to ask that you don't humble yourself too much. Confidence is important in what we're trying to do." Suzuki chided him.

"My apologies, I'll do my best." Ōmori bowed again. Suzuki watched him bemusedly, sighing in mock consternation, and then continued.

"I'm still not entirely on board with disturbing our former leaders' rests, but I'll discuss it with Admiral Kiyotaka later. Now, I'll give you a quick rundown of what I'm in charge of, and some more details on the state of Japan and the world." Suzuki took a moment, and then began giving him a summary.

The Ship Girl program had quickly gotten underway after their initial success. They were still constructing more girls here and there, but the existing ones were spread about multiple bases. Luckily for him, these bases correlated with the ones in Ōmori's memory.

 _Maizuru, Kure, Yokosuka (Where I am now), etc. They're still going strong, huh?_

Commander Suzuki was in charge of the ship girl detachment in Yokosuka, but also indirectly managed the other base's detachments. He was a bit like an operational commander. They had a sizable number of destroyers based here, a handful of light and heavy cruisers, and some battleships. They also had two standard aircraft carriers, and two light aircraft carriers. Ōmori was about to ask which ones they were when his heart dropped.

Looking back, he couldn't really describe what he felt at that moment, but he found himself not wanting to face any aircraft carrier. Especially Akagi or Shoukaku. It was something like guilt, a horrible feeling stemming from the fact that he couldn't defend the Akagi during Midway, and his death, along with many other experienced pilots, had left the Shoukaku defenseless, never reclaiming her or her sister's former glory until her sinking near the Philippines. The "turkey shoot" that the Zuikaku experienced later had been especially painful to read about. He had let them down when they needed him most.

He hadn't even met a ship girl yet, but these feelings whirled through his head, leaving him feeling sick. He knew it was irrational and illogical, but the memories of his last engagement at the Battle of Santa Cruz made him feel like he had failed where he should've succeeded. The closest word to describe how he felt would be: inadequate.

"Ōmori? Something wrong?" Suzuki was looking at him with concern.

"It's...nothing. Please continue." Ōmori shook his head, clearing his mind.

Suzuki went on to explain that though Japan had a slight head start, ship girls were beginning to be seen all over the world, and the initial engagements were going well. The current goal was to slowly, but surely re-establish sea routes, and after gaining a solid foothold in the oceans once more, drive the abyssals from the face of the earth. It was a lofty goal, but Ōmori felt his spirit rising at Suzuki's words.

The two of them finished conversing, and by this time the sun was setting. Suzuki said his farewells, leaving Ōmori to grab dinner and retire to his temporary room.

He fell asleep dreaming of flying through the sky, in his familiar Zero, that reassuring engine growling as he sped between the clouds.

* * *

"We've pretty much narrowed down what someone like you might be capable of. The first option is very similar to what the ship girls do, summon your armament, and engage the enemy. The second is...kind of complicated, is probably a wild goose chase, and requires some ship girls that aren't here right now. So we'll be testing the first one." Suzuki explained.

It was afternoon now. Ōmori had moved in to his new quarters in the officer's dorm, close to the ship girl's dormitory. During the move, he saw several girls, who he assumed to be ship girls, walking around, but he didn't pay too much attention. He'd be introduced when the time is right. He did note, however, that their attire ranged from strange to outright bizarre, and that the age range was rather large. He had heard that some of the men had reservations about forcing girls to fight the abyssals. He could understand why.

After the move-in, Suzuki summoned him to a secluded side of the beach for demonstrations. The commander was accompanied by someone from R&D, and a ship girl. Ōmori took a moment to examine the girl. She had dark hair in a braid, with clear blue eyes. She work a black sailor uniform with a double-barreled 12.7 cm gun turret on her back, like a backpack. There were also two quadruple torpedo launchers strapped to each leg.

 _This one's a destroyer, huh?_

"Good to see you, Ōmori. This is Shigure. Shigure, this is our latest addition, a Mitsubishi A6M Zero in the form of fighter ace Lieutenant Ōmori Shigetaka." Suzuki introduced the two. They both bowed to one another, Ōmori's eyebrow raising a little bit. He hadn't really thought about it, but his new body could indeed be considered the personification of his old plane.

"Nice to meet you, I'm the destroyer Shigure, 2nd ship of the Shiratsuyu-class destroyers," she introduced herself politely. Her voice was soft, but oddly enough she referred to herself in a masculine way.

"Lieutenant Ōmori Shigetaka, I'm in your care." Ōmori replied, just as politely. He had read her name during his studying, and knew that her historical self had become somewhat of a celebrity in the year after his death, but he didn't know much more than that.

"She's a good backup assistant, whenever my actual secretary is busy." Suzuki rubbed her head as the young girl closed her eyes contentedly, "She's currently running some exercises on another stretch of beach not too far from here, so I brought Shigure instead. Go ahead, Shigure."

"Um...you've never tried summoning an armament before, right Lieutenant Ōmori?" Shigure asked him.

"Nope, I've never attempted anything like that." Ōmori nodded.

"This is just a test to see if you can even do it in the first place," Suzuki chimed in, "Just explain to him what you do, Shigure."

"Understood," Shigure's equipment suddenly disappeared in a burst of light, "It's a bit natural for us, but we simply visualize our weaponry, and call it forth inside our minds."

In another burst of light, her equipment had returned.

"Eh? Um, okay..." Ōmori tried picturing a Zero in his head. "Then you said you call it?"

He wasn't sure what to do, but he decided to just go for it.

 _I need something to fight with, to protect my country with! Please!_

In a burst of light similar to Shigure's, he felt the weight of two machine guns in either hand. He looked down at his arms, and extending below the handles held in each fist, were the long barrels of a Zero's recognizable 20 mm cannons. Looking to his shoulders, mounted from behind, were two 7.7 mm machine guns. He made for an imposing figure, one that resembled a mecha in Suzuki's mind.

"Whew..." Suzuki breathed in out of surprise, "Look behind you, Ōmori."

Looking at his back, he saw a metal pack, with two flaps that resembled a Zero's wings.

"Looks like a jetpack..." Suzuki commented.

Ōmori tilted his head at the unfamiliar term.

"Something that let's you fly." Suzuki explained, his face breaking into a grin, followed by Ōmori's. Meanwhile, Shigure was looking at Ōmori with interest, but didn't say anything.

4 Hours Later, Ōmori was severely wishing he had failed to summon "his" armament.

He had no control over his flight, and struggled to maintain a stable posture as he took off. There weren't any controls, so he had to use his mind in some strange way to control himself. Anytime he tried some basic maneuver, like a wide turn, he would lose control and spiral down into the ground. If he wasn't built the way he was, he was sure he'd be dead.

Not to mention he was getting really hungry, despite snacking heavily on the rations they'd brought out to the beach.

"Hmm, using your armament makes you hungry because it deprives you of resources. The ship girls suffer from the same thing." Suzuki explained, "Regarding your inability to handle your armament...I'm thinking it has something to do with the fact that you are a person in a Zero's personified body. This actually came up in discussion after we had established more theories about the ship girls. I think if you were exclusively a personified Zero, control of your armament would come naturally. We also think that the human brain doesn't have the control center necessary to operate ship girl's armaments, and that might extend to your plane armament."

Ōmori could only sigh in response. At this point, he'd given up hope of flying. Instead, he sat on the beach with Suzuki while Shigure poured them tea and served some snacks.

"I'm sorry, hopefully the second option works out." Suzuki looked at him apologetically. He had seen how excited the pilot was at the possibility of fighting in the sky, with full control over his movement. Though he'd be a larger target than a ship girl's planes, he'd have a dimension of movement that they didn't. Even if the second option worked out, it wouldn't take advantage of his stronger-than-human body.

"Lieutenant Ōmori, please cheer up. I think it's wonderful that you answered the call for help after death. Your presence here is proof of how much you love the country." Shigure consoled the downtrodden pilot, pouring him another cup of tea.

"Thanks..." Ōmori downed the cup like he was taking a shot of sake, before turning to Suzuki. In the corner of his eye, he could see Shigure pouring him yet another cup of tea. The girl was very obedient and hardworking.

"Could you use this knowledge to start summoning personified planes then? Without human souls attached?" Ōmori asked hopefully, really wanting something to come from his day of failure.

"That'd be...difficult. As far as we can tell, individual planes probably wouldn't have enough lingering feelings to conglomerate into a personified 'soul', like the ship girls' have." Suzuki replied, hanging his head, "I'm sorry, Ōmori. You're a special case, a mix, if you will."

"What is...this second plan of yours, anyways?" Ōmori asked, getting more and more depressed.

"It'd actually be easier to show you. I've already asked the ship girl needed to come here after her training exercises." Suzuki replied, taking a sip from his cup.

"Oh? What kind of ship is she?" Ōmori asked curiously, looking up from the rather interesting patch of sand he'd been staring at for the past few minutes.

"One you're quite familiar with, an aircraft carrier." Suzuki said with a grin.

Ōmori froze, feeling his heart drop straight down into his feet despite the fact that he was sitting down. In hindsight, it was rather obvious that an aircraft carrier would be involved with an aircraft personified, but Ōmori hadn't realized it at that moment. He considered excusing himself from the beach, and perhaps the base, but Suzuki's next action dispelled the notion.

"...?" Suzuki looked at Ōmori for moment, puzzled, before spotting something past him. He smiled and called out, "Speak of the devil! Come here, introduce yourself!"

"Understood!" A melodious voice of a young woman sounded in reply.

Swallowing deeply, Ōmori turned around to face the source of the voice. He was greeted by a rather pretty girl in archery gear. She had bright hazel eyes, and long white hair, which despite being an unnatural color, suited her well. Ōmori barely registered these details, his mind wondering about what level of detail ship girls remembered their operational history. Namely, whether they could remember their crew member's faces.

"I'm the aircraft carrier Shoukaku, it's good to see you again!" the girl bowed deeply, smiling at him familiarly.

Apparently, to Ōmori's dismay, they did.

* * *

 ***Whew* It's been a pretty busy weekend, huh? I've made it through the introductory chapters, and with the next few, we'll see the groundwork for the main plot being laid down. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any comments or suggestions, please leave me a review!  
**

 **P.S. In case you haven't realized,** **Ōmori wasn't a very documented pilot, so I'm taking liberties in creating a fictional character for him. This is not an accurate or nonfiction representation of his personality.**


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